Flipped
by SerpentsAttire
Summary: Companion to Turnover. Movieverse. Two-shot. SPEED'S POV. "When Rex let me drive, and I turned us over". What really happened that day. Rex-Speed brotherbonding fic. Spoilers
1. Part One

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Speed Racer. That right belongs strictly to Speed Racer Enterprise (who secretly want to hire me to one job or another, they just don't know it yet). I'm just borrowing their characters and the 2008 movie's concepts. _

_**Notes: **__It's "Turnover", Speed style. ;D I hope it lives up. o.O For you, Cassie. :D_

_**Notes2: **__I'm going to see Speed Racer in Orlando's IMAX on the 14__th__, but it's seriously murder to not be seeing it right now. It's been a week … That'll be the seventh time, by the way, Racer X. xD_

_**Warnings: **__Language, possible abuse of movie time line. … Maybe …_

**Flipped**

The rays of sun that beat off the metal track were suffocating in the heat they produced, embracing the lungs as it was sucked into the body, inundating the skin in hopes of burning away the frail, protective barrier to boil up what flowed beneath. It was a valiant attempt at assassination, undoubtedly, and there were times when it succeeded – taking from one a lapse of time from their life in exchange for a temporary solitude of darkness, or stealing their very life-giving breath. However, the attempt was in vain today, as the only source to attack was bouncing up and down excitedly upon the red leather upholstery of a gleaming white car, and he was far too used to the bearing heat to even acknowledge its existence.

Insulting, perhaps, but what eight-year-old would notice?

As the glittering red Mach 4 sped down the Thunderhead Race Way, swinging around the Baritone Curve as though made from it, Speed Racer whooped loudly in excitement as he clutched the Mach 5's round steering wheel tightly in his small hands. His small legs jittered up and down with unsuppressed energy, vivid blue eyes rapt with attention as he watched his older brother shift the T-18- into fourth gear. He had been to Thunderhead dozens of times before – his mother had brought the whole family down for a picnic just last weekend – but this was different. This time, his mother was not hear to bribe him away from the metal of the track with some promised goody; his father unable to send him warning glares and a firm word if his foot got too close to the accelerator of the Mach 5 as he pretended that he, too, was up on the racetrack. No, this time it was only him and his brother. Rex had finally agreed to bring him to the track after making him promise he wouldn't say a word to their parents. Not that he would, anyway. He certainly was_ never_ in the mood to get yelled at by Pops …

'_Besides, I'm eight now,' _thought Speed, his chest puffing up a little. _'That's grown up. And Rex even parked the Mach 5 on the _**track**_.' _And the last thought made him grin a little.

He was jarred from his thoughts quite suddenly by a dim screech of horror, and his eyes quickly darted back to the speeding racecar, narrowing to slim slits as he studied it. Just a second before, the racing Mach had been flying along just fine – Rex had obviously been enjoying the ride and in complete control of the vehicle. Now, however, its tires pulled one way and then the other as though it were a bronco trying to buck off an offending cowboy. Speed watched in stunned astonishment as it began to slow, shaking as if angry, giving the occasional twist as it approached the ever-dreaded dog bowls. His breath caught – had Rex burned out? Had he lost it? It just wasn't possible – it _couldn't_ be. Rex … Rex was it. No one else could drive a car the way he could – no one else was a better driver. There was no way he could have burned out the Mach 4. His _car_. Speed cringed as he practically heard the gears grinding as the car slowed, wanting to look away but unable to. _'Fix it, Rex,' _he pleaded. _'Fix it, fix it, fix it.'_

**Bam!**

"Yeah!" Speed roared as the backlash pipes spewed iodine remnants as the Mach suddenly roared back to life. "Go, Rex, go!" His smile was wide as he watched his brother skid over the offending dog bowls as though they were nothing, tires hanging so dangerously close over the edge that it was breathtaking. He had done it, just as Speed knew he would. There was truly no driver in the world better than Rex, and even though Speed was beyond befuddled as to how Rex had fixed the ailing T-180, he just knew that he would. This was what he loved – watching Rex drive was what made his stomach twist in knots, his breath quicken. It was what gave him (as he often heard Pops mutter) heart attacks. To see his older flying this way and that, completely in control and totally at ease – it made him want to get out of bed every morning and go to school, just so that Rex would pick him up and maybe, just maybe, let Speed watch as he worked with the car. And as the Mach 4 sped across the finish line, brakes slamming to a stop without hesitation, Speed disregarded the orders to stay put in his seat, flying over the top of the car door instead of opening it, racing to the still running car.

"Rex!" He cried, launching himself at his older brother, beaming as he saw the other's grin. "Rex! That was amazing. I can't believe -- how did you -- Rex!" He latched his arms around the taller boy's neck and legs around his torso. "That was awesome! I've never seen anyone race like _that_, Rex. How? It was so _cool_," and he was unable to keep from laughing slightly as Rex pulled them both from the Mach 4 with ease, still feeding off the adrenaline, voice growing louder. "I thought you burned out; it was beginning to lose momentum! And then ... you just fixed it! And it just took off --."

" 'She', Speedy, not 'it'," Rex corrected, and Speed had to pull his head back to avoid being hit by the removing helmet, but there was a grin planted firmly on his face as he studied his brother. There was a light in Rex's hazel eyes, a brightness to his face – the only way Speed ever drew Rex when an assignment in class called for a family portrait – the only way he ever really pictured his brother in his head at all. "Wait, you saw all of that?"

Rex's voice called him from his thoughts, and he blinked in confusion, belatedly realizing he had been pushed back far enough to stare straight into, and not up at, his brother's eyes.

"Saw what?" Was Rex a mind-reader now, too? Had he heard … no, that was dumb. Stupid. Then what … oh! "Of course I did! It – um, she," he corrected shyly, remembering the absent reprimand too late. "Was gliding on the track just fine, but then _she." 'Got it this time.' _"Just started to shake, and twist, and I thought for sure you were going to break down, but then she just calmed. It was amazing!" By this time, he had been pulled back against his brother's chest and shoulder, and was so forced to stare up at his brother in complete adoration to try and get his point across and question heard. "How did you do it, huh Rex?" He repeated, and offered puppy-dog eyes now, the kind that always had his mother placing extra breakfast onto his plate, or got Pops to tone down yet another lecture. And when Speed was driven to use it on Rex (which wasn't that often), it worked on him, too.

But this time, just like the rest of the day, was different, and his shoulders slumped as Rex smiled slightly and shook his head.

"You'll understand when it's your turn, Speedy," he promised, and for some reason chuckled not long after. "But for now, I think it's time that we headed home." Home? Wait, what? "Mom's probably getting ready to put lunch on the table, and we're still here --."

"No she isn't!" Speed shook his head vigorously, ignoring the dizziness that ensued. They couldn't go home! They hadn't been here nearly long enough … he wasn't ready yet! It's only 12:30, Rex! She puts lunch on the table at 1:15 _exactly_, so we don't have to leave just yet! We still have time for you to go around the track at least two more times. Come on, Rex. Please? Please, please, please, please, _please_?" He was whining and he knew it, but couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he brought his puppy-dog eyes back into full force, holding his breath as Rex sighed and gave him a look.

The youngest Racer son didn't like to do anything that could upset his brother, and it was very rarely that he did so. There was something about Rex that made him different – he would pull at his father's nerves all day long, and endlessly harass his mother until he got what he wanted. But Rex … Rex he just couldn't, as if he didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Something stopped him every time he went to his brother when he was in the kind of mood. Something soothed down his energy, quieted his voice when he was with the older boy. When he was around his brother, he wanted nothing more than to just be with him – to have Rex smile at him, hug him, compliment something he had done. More times than not his mother had tried to encourage him to parties and the such whenever he was out in the garage with Rex, or to convince Rex to "go out with the boys" when they were both sitting and watching television. He had heard Pops grumble something about "attached at the hip" when he saw them together, whatever that meant, and he was often spoken to by his teacher about needing other friends beside his brother. As that stood, Speed had grown quite content with ignoring everything Ms. Morgan said to him thereafter.

"I don't think so, Speedy," he heard his brother say reluctantly, lowering him to the ground, and Speed watched as he slowly leaned over to cut off the engine to the red Mach, missing the sensation of warmth already. And all of this was why he didn't want to leave, at least not yet. Out here, they're alone. There was no one to comment on how they spend too much time together, no one to give annoying pointed looks. And even though Speed didn't truly what it is they mean by it, he found it nerve-racking, and a deep pull of sadness would always fill his stomach.

Slowly, Speed's attention came back toward the present, blue gaze focusing on the Mach 4 that would soon enough be towed back to its holding at Thunderhead's garage until the race the following Saturday, and for a moment, he simply stared at her. He wondered, cautiously, what it would be like to one day race Rex on Thunderhead. Would Rex pull ahead – would he? Or would they be neck and neck as they pulled and curved and turned, sharing smiles every time they tossed each other a glance?

"Wanna go for a drive, Speedy?"

The question was so nonchalant that, for a second, Speed didn't even grace his brother's question with a serious thought. And then he allowed the words to sink in, blinking rapidly to realize that Rex was climbing back into the Mach 4, stunned as he smiled.

"But … but there's no passenger seat, Rex," Speed pointed out softly, unconsciously inching forward from internal desire. He could have sworn a light twinkled mischievously in his older brother's eye.

"Yeah, well … I figured it's time for you to drive on a real racetrack." A trademark shrug. Speed stopped moving. "If you're going to be a famous racecar driver one day, then you're going to have to start." _'Are you serious, Rex?_' Speed thought silently, eyes darting between the red racecar and his grinning brother with uncertain excitement. _'You'll .. you'll let me _drive_? But …Mom will have a cow, and Pops … Pops will kill you if he finds out.' _His thoughts ceased as the driver's eyes widened dramatically. "Or have you decided you want to go be a lawyer now? Is that what you want, Speedy? Speed Racer, the lawyer?"

"No!" The cry left his mouth before his mind could even comprehend the word, and without another second of hesitation, the eight-year-old darted to the car, throwing himself onto Rex's lap and grasping the Mach's crescentwheel tightly in his hands. "I'm Speed Racer the _racer_," he growled to his brother, just as he did every other time the older boy brought up their mother's dream for him. And then he paused, realizing _exactly_ where it was he was, grip relaxing on the wheel as he turned to look at Rex timidly. "Um, what do I do?" And his brother laughed.

"First, you put this on," he ordered lightly, and Speed pressed himself closer to Rex's chest as the clasps of harness came out to wrap around them both, eyeing them suspiciously as they clicked into their proper holders. "And now the helmet." And he couldn't help but frown in exasperation, really, as the too-big helmet was dropped onto his head. "Don't give me that look Speedy. And latch it, or it won't stay on." Slowly, with more playfulness than annoyance, Speed obeyed. "Thank you. Now, you can't reach the pedals just yet, I know, so here's what you're going to do. Push your feet down on mine for the accelerator or the break – kick it if you want to change gears, okay?"

Speed stiffened at that. "You're not going to tell me when?" He demanded, and suddenly the prospect of driving the Mach 4 didn't seem so appealing. He felt Rex lean into him slightly, as though to offer some sort of support, and Speed found himself sitting up straighter because of it.

"I'll tell you if you're wrong," his brother amended, reaching up to flick on the proper switches, and Speed couldn't help but feel oddly calmer as the Mach 4 began to fully rumble beneath him. This … Rex, the car … it felt … right. "I think you can handle the rest. You better hurry though, Speedy. Your math may be right, but I think we can only go around once --."

'_No!' _At the barb, Speed pressed his foot down on Rex's, nearly flooring the accelerator as the Mach flew off in a wave.

The harsh wind blew against his face as they roared down the track, and his eyes watered burningly at the assault. However, as they zoomed around the first dog bowl, Speed found his hands sliding down the crescentwheel until they fell into a place that felt right, a light buzzing noise in his ears seeming to guide him around the second bowl, the Mach remaining dead-center the entire time. His feet remained stead-fast on the accelerator and second gear, via Rex's own two feet, and there was a crazy smile implanted firmly upon his face. It felt amazing, like he was coming home to Mom's pancakes, Pops' garage, and Rex's steadfast and unwavering company. It was perfect, and when he spotted Crusher's Turn not far up ahead, followed by the infamous and aptly titled Jump, he felt his heart practically beating to escape his chest in its own excitement, and he kicked Rex's foot over to third to convey.

"You okay, Speedy?" Rex's voice boomed in his ear, sounding slightly off, but Speed quickly tacked it up as the wind as they roared across the fourth curve.

"Yeah, this is awesome!" He cried back, whipping the wheel to enter the last dog bowl. "Can I go over the Jump?" _'Please?'_

"Maybe not this time, bud." He couldn't stop, and maybe didn't try to stop, the slump of his body against Rex's in disappointment. His mind, sounding alarmingly close to Mom, berated him for it, saying that he should be grateful that Rex even had him out here at all, and that is was unfair to be upset that he couldn't do everything. The words were chased off quickly, though, by a gentle jab on his shoulder from Rex's, and he felt his brother lean his head closer to speak directly into his ear. . "Tell you what, though. How about you take the Crusher's Turn, huh? Will that be good enough for you, Mr. Racecar Driver?" And though it seemed equally wrong to be excited for the give-in, Speed released an excited little yelp and leaned forward in determination, hardly noticing the extra set of hands that slowly came up to shadow his own on the wheel as they. He could see the turn right in front of them, the sun beaming off of it so brightly it was almost blinding.

'_This is it,' _he thought in realization, and his limbs suddenly felt light. _'This is it. This is my chance. This … I can do this. But we're going too slow. It won't work. Rex, what are you doing?' _Speed's eyes narrowed in thought. Rex was keeping the car in third because that's where Speed had put him. But even now, if he kicked it over, it would be too late to gain the speed needed to complete the turn successfully. His eyebrows scrunched further, thinking rapidly. He remembered something … Pops saying to Rex once to throw down two gears incase he was ever in such a situation. But which? _'Second sounds good,'_ he thought determinedly, and slowly, discreetly, pulled his foot from atop of Rex's. _'I can't reach fourth.'_

"Okay, Speedy," he heard his brother bellow into his ear as the Mach 4 neared the beginning of Crusher's Turn. "We're going to slow down just a little, you can't take this turn too fast – or too sharp. Easy with the wheel, Spe--." _'That's not right, Rex.' _And with as much strength as he could muster from not being able to reach the gear, Speed's foot pressed second.

What followed was a blur that haunted Speed for years to come. Above Rex's suddenly harsh breathing, the Mach wailed in pain as her gears grinded together in assault, shaking in a horrific manner was the tires quickly became unsteady. Crying out in alarm, Speed yanked the wheel to the right completely even as he felt Rex go for the brake, eyes slamming close when he realized the left-side tires were no longer on the track.

"_Shit_!" He heard Rex roar, and he slammed himself back as far as he could into his elder brother's chest as he felt arms come up to wrap around him.

The last thing he felt was an immense, painful blow to his head and face before everything erupted into painful white.

**.T.**

_He was sitting in the Mach 5, resting his head back against the top edge of the red leather passenger seat. For the first time in a while, he was quiet, blue eyes closed as he momentarily allowed himself to forget the events of the day – to pretend as though they had never even happened. A nightmare, maybe. He could call it that. Mom would not approve, but she didn't need to know. Geez, she didn't need to know about today at all, and he could just tell her about the "nightmare" without worrying about her catching on. _

_Then again, she could do what she did last time, and speak with Ms. Morgan about getting him to participate with his classmates during recess. Nope. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all._

"_You know those kids are wrong, don't you?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and if Speed was honest with his nightmare theory, then it didn't exist at all. But he could feel the force behind the words – not brutal, not cruel. Caring, soft, and tender. A tone that he wanted to pull into a physical blanket and wrap around himself, burying into its protective warmth forever. "Hey, Speed. Speedy, look at me, buddy." And he did, slowly cracking open his eyes to meet those of his brother, which were darting endless looks between him and the road._

_Rex. Rex was his hero, more so than Pops, though Speed would never admit that. Rex was always there for him, no matter if he was doing something or if he was miles away – he dropped it all the second Speed needed him. Like today. Today he had just revved up the engine, swooped Speed into his strong arms, and whisked him away from the harsh taunts of his classmates, fighting them back with murderous, Pops-like glares as they made their escape. He had been more gallant than any superhero Speed had ever seen on television, and as he studied him now, the expression was still there._

"_It hurts, Rex," he whispered, and even to his own ears it sounded so pathetic that he closed his eyes once more. He felt the Mach 5 slow to a stop, heard the click of a releasing seat belt, but didn't even flinch as he felt his brother's stare turn unhindered toward him._

"_Listen, Speedy," he heard Rex say softly. "People … people aren't always nice, okay? Sometimes they can be mean, even if what they're being mean about isn't true. And a lot of times, they're mean to someone who doesn't deserve it. Someone like you." Speed's eyes remained closed as he felt Rex's hand on his shoulder, though they burned something fierce as he felt himself being pulled into a tight, fervent hug. "They were wrong, Speedy," Rex repeated. "Don't you dare let them make you believe things that aren't true. Ever. Can you promise me that, Speed?" The last words were whispered into his ear, and not trusting himself to speak without bawling like a baby, Speed nodded into his brother's shoulder, frowning slightly as he felt a bit of wetness leak from the corner of his eyes and down his face. A soothing hand came up to rub against his back. "Don't cry, Speedy," his brother quieted. "You're okay. I'm here. I'm with you."_

"_It hurts," Speed repeated, burying his head further into the crook. He felt Rex kiss the top of his head as though to soothe an injury._

"_It's okay." The hand continued the comforting circles. "I'm right with you, Speedy. You're going to be okay, bud. Open your eyes for me, okay?" His head shook harshly._

"_I can't," he enforced, voice higher. "It hurts, Rex. It _**hurts**_." The hand stilled, and though he was still held against his brother's chest, he suddenly felt incredibly far away from the older boy._

"_Then wake up," came the command, and Speed frowned through his tears._

"_What?"_

"_No, no, no, no, no. No, no, no, no, no. Speed! Speed, wake up! Wake up!" The voice was Rex's, but it sounded so far away, further than Rex was._

"_What's going on?" He demanded, trying to pull back, to open his eyes. But the arms held him firmly in place – he couldn't see._

"_Listen, Speedy," Rex encouraged gently._

"_C'mon, Speedy. Please. Please wake up. Please, Speedy. Come on, little brother. Don't do this to me._ **Please**_." It was still Rex, and the voice sounded so pained, so hurt, that Speed's insides clenched._

"_I did something wrong," he whispered into his brother's neck, and the arms tightened briefly, comfortingly, before releasing him. _

"_Wake up, Speed." His eyes continued to ignore his commands, remaining sealed even as he pulled away. Even as the seat of the Mach 5 beneath him began to fade, and his feet were touching the ground._

"_Rex?" He called out desperately._

"_Speedy, you know what happens if you don't wake up, don't you?" Speed's body shook in relief at the sound of his brother's voice._

"_Rex." He was confused. The ground beneath his feet began to feel funny. _

"_You can't be a racecar driver. At all. You won't even be allowed around cars or tracks ever again. You'll be too boring. Hear that, bud?"_

"_Stop teasing me!" He yelled _

"_No racing, no cars, no tracks, __**nothing.**__"_

_The ground beneath him suddenly disappeared, and he fell back only to land on something soft … familiar. The embrace from before, the gentle hands cradling him. Rex. Rex, Rex, Rex, Rex, Rex. He tried to speak, but nothing more than a small, high noise came out. Apparently, however, this was enough, for the arms suddenly tightened, and he could _feel _himself shifting in response._

""_That's right, Speedy." For some reason, Rex sounded hysterically happy. "You won't be Speed Racer the WRL racing champion, you'll be Mr. Racer, the lawyer."_

"'ilnot." Speed frowned at the sound of his own voice – weak and thick with something he wanted to but could not swallow. His eyes fluttered under his command, but before he could try to open them, he was crushed against a very familiar chest so tightly that his body practically raged its protest. He cringed slightly – his head was pounding harshly, his face wet and sticky, and if his tongue was telling the truth, his two front teeth were gone. Ms. Morgan was going to _love _that when he had read from the book.

But what happened?

"Rex?" He struggled slightly in the driver's grasp until his was allowed to move a bit – pull his head away to look around. He had to narrow his eyes against the pain to see that they were laying on Thunderhead, and a slightly glance to the back right revealed the Mach 4 on her side, badly beaten and bleeding red paint all over the silver metal of the track. And then he remembered driving her across the dog bowls, of hitting second the same time Rex had gone for the brakes, of the T-180 spinning out of control and finally turning over. And though he knew it wasn't a good thing that he had trashed his brother's car, his head began to swim as the sound of an approaching helicopter began to make itself known to his ears. All he could remember was the feel of the racing Mach beneath his hands as he allowed his aching head to fall back against his brother's chest.

"'at was _awesome_."

**.T.**

He was, for the first time in a long, long time, unbearably hot. And though his stubborn streak begged to differ, Speed somehow know that it wasn't due to the large bandage that had been wrapped around his head by the doctors that had arrived on the helicopter. The leather of the Mach 5's passenger seat was sticky beneath his legs, her joyful rumbling a burden to his aching body. Just an hour ago, he had been sitting next to Rex on a gurney as their wounds were attended to, rambling on and on to his brother about how amazing the drive had been, and how awesome the turnover. He had grinned insanely toward any doctor who had asked him how he was feeling, and then nodded toward them seriously every time Rex insisted that they did not need a trip to the hospital, they would be fine, thank you very much. Speed had always insisted that his brother was quite capable of getting anything he wanted from anyone because of who he was, and the case with the doctors had proven his point. He had made sure to inform Rex of that for ten minutes straight, and Mr. Silvertine, too, before Rex had carried him (against his protests) cautiously toward the Mach 5 and put him inside to take home.

It was a half hour drive from Thunderhead Race Way to their quiet, colorful little street, and it was during that time that Speed's energy had plummeted to nonexistence, and he was left only with the harsh reality of exactly what it was he had done.

He should have trusted that Rex knew what he was doing when he had taken the Mach 4 toward Crusher's Turn at such a slow pace. His brother certainly knew more about racing than he did – knew what to do and when to do it. And he had promised to tell Speed if he was doing something wrong, so obviously the entire situation had been right before Speed had taken things into his own hands and hit the second gear.

Now, the Mach was still sitting on Thunderhead, practically melted onto the metal and possibly not able to race on Saturday. Rex's head was bashed on the side – the cut was gruesome to look at and would occasionally ooze a little bit of blood and clear liquid, and it obviously hurt, if the occasional wince was anything to go by. And his brother was bound to get into trouble with Pops the second they pulled into the garage because of the whole ordeal.

'_And it wasn't even Rex's fault.' _He thought forlornly, staring out at the scenery slowly passing by. _'What if he hates me for it?' _And the thought was so distressing that his mouth crept into a slim, straight line of distress, his eyes burning ever-so-slightly in warning.

And if he admitted it, he wasn't so surprised when the Mach 5 slowly drew to a stop just a block from their home. He flinched slightly at the sound of the stick shifting into park. _'What if he hates me?'_ And though he could feel Rex's gaze burning into his form pointedly, he refused to look up, though he shuddered at how familiar this situation was.

'_He deserves something,' _his mind berated. _'Apologize.'_

"I'm sorry for turning us over, Rex." His voice was shaky, uncertain in its soft tone, and he continued to look out the side as he continued. _'Please don't be mad.' _"I'm sorry I tore up 'e Mach 4 and 'at I got us hurt and I'll take all 'e blame when Pops finds out and I understand if you never let me drive again and --."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Speed flinched again at his brother's incredulous interjection. "Speedy, you don't really think I'm mad about all of that, do you?" _'Yes.' _He turned his head, keeping his eyes lowered, though it appeared Rex wasn't going to have any of that. "Speed Racer, look at me." Cautiously, he raised his eyes, locking them with Rex's, surprised to see sadness in the hazel gaze he loved so much that matched his own. However, though the lack of apparent anger brought along some hope, the seriousness of what he had done warned him from expecting too much. boy turned around, but refused to look up. Rex blinked. "Speed Racer, look at me." Reluctant blue eyes did just that, filled with a mixture of hope and fear that had Rex's gut wrenching. "The turnover was an accident, Speedy. I'm not saying what you did wasn't wrong, because it was. You should have asked before putting it in second." Speed looked back down. "But you didn't mean to flip the Mach. That was an accident, Speedy, and all drivers have them. All real drivers."

"_All real drivers."_ _'Yeah, Rex?' _Speed finally looked up completely, offering his brother a shy smile. All real drivers …

"You seemed upset earlier," he argued softly, sounding more accusing than he meant to, but too tired to take it back, though he felt guilty when Rex flinched.

"I wasn't upset, Speedy," he admitted. "I was worried. When you wouldn't wake up … it scared me. I thought you were hurt _really _bad, and that you weren't going to wake up again. I was … scared. Really scared." Speed froze at the admission. Scared … _Rex_? But Rex wasn't scared of anything! Pops and Mom and Sparky and everyone else always referred to him as fearless – Speed couldn't recall a time having ever seen Rex anything but.

"I'm sorry," he repeated in a whisper, and before he knew what he was doing, he reached over and clutched the seventeen-year-old's hand, only to be pulled into a close, gentle one-armed hug.

"Just don't do it again, Speedy," Rex commanded, and he kept his arm locked tightly around Speed's shoulders and he put the Mach 5 back into drive. "Now, as for letting you drive again … why don't we just wait and see if _I'll _be allowed to drive again, okay bud? It's 2:30 … I'd say we're definitely late for lunch, and that they know something's up." And despite the return of Rex's warmth Speed had relished in earlier that day, he shuddered at the prospect of facing their parents. Geez, he could just see it now …

"What do we tell _Mom?_" He felt Rex shrug as they pulled up to the house.

"Just tell her what you told me, kiddo. That it was 'awesome'."

And that was what he did. The second the Mach 5 was in the garage and once again in park, Speed through a grin onto his face and jumped from the car, ignoring the aches of his body as he ran toward their mother, not even faltering at the sight of Pops just behind her.

"Mom, yeah! You should have seen it!"

And even though he didn't really believe the words he was telling his mother, about how awesome the flip was and how no, his head didn't hurt, he kept the smile on his face. Maybe, just maybe, if he played this right, Pops wouldn't yell at Rex for being careless and Mom would still let them have their lunch dessert. Granted, from the way Pops was now looking at him, he could be bringing that lecture onto himself. But he didn't really care.

As long as Rex didn't get in trouble, then nothing else really mattered.

_**To be continued …**_

_Almost 1000 words longer than part one of Turnover. Guess Speed thinks more than Rex does. :3 Part two should be out tomorrow._

**Note on Speed pre-wake up. The part is taking place during an actual memory of Speed's from an earlier point in his life, this first time Rex actually "rescued" him from something. It's symbolic for this piece, and it's also a oneshot I'm working on.**

_I really hoped this lived up to expectations at least to a C level. I've discovered I'm not too good at a child's perspective. The ones I've done have been in the Harry Potter world, and we all make him more intelligent and mature than he should be in that category. ;) So my most sincere apologies if it just didn't work. I tried._

_On the lighter side, I've got about, um … -counts- between 10 and 15 more oneshots planned for Speed Racer, and 1 multi-chaptered SR story. They should all be out by the end of this month, should work and school cooperate, so keep an eye out._

_Anyway, good or bad, I'd like to hear what y'all thought about this as opposed to Turnover, so please click the review button and let me know. :D And hey! I've posted, so I'm fully expecting an update from Cassie (JCassie241) and Dawn (DawningStar). No more Writer's Block, you two. I'm watching. Ha!_

_Always,_

_Me_


	2. Part Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Speed Racer. That right belongs strictly to Speed Racer Enterprise (who secretly want to hire me to one job or another, they just don't know it yet). I'm just borrowing their characters and the 2008 movie's concepts. _

_**Notes:**__ I'm so sorry it's so late. June was the last month of my Lit. class, and I got __**slammed**__ with my final paper (7 pages on the symbolism of Harry Potter. How can you fit the symbolism of Harry Potter into __**seven**__ pages?!) and a final on Hamlet (love Hamlet. Awesome play. Totally amazing. I recommend it). But, at long last, the second and final part of Flipped. Hope it meets expectations. :3_

_**Notes2**__: My count for seeing the movie hit 8 before they took it out of my theater (jerks). Didn't get to go to IMAX – it got replaced by Kung Fu Panda just before (double jerks). HOWEVER, 8 times. Should last me until November 18__th__, which is when it's rumored to be coming out. :D_

_**Warnings:**__ Language, possible abuse of movie time line. … Maybe …_

**Part Two**

No light shown through his window that night, and despite the fact that his T-180 nightlight had taken over the responsibility of basking the area in a soft, lighting glow, Speed still lay rigid in his small bed. Hours ago, after practically forcing foods down his throat, his parents had ushered him off for a quick bath and then to bed, waving away his protests and desires to see his older brother before he did so. He had been carefully and securely tucked beneath his blankets, complete with a gentle kiss on his bandaged head from his mom, before both of his parents had left him to the darkness of his bedroom. And thus he laid, a frown furrowed on his face, thumbs twiddling schizophrenically as blue eyes stared up at a white popcorn ceiling.

'This is stupid,' Speed thought grumpily, frown deepening as his chest released a huff of annoyance. 'I want to talk to Rex.'

Which was exactly what he had said to his parents right before they shut the door – his ears still rang from Pops sharp bark in response to his more than rude words.\

But Speed couldn't help the fact that it was true. He hated the fact that his brother was in trouble for something that HE had done, accident or no. Rex hadn't been the one to flip the Mach 4 over. Granted, he had let Speed drive, but so did Pops, albeit on very rare occasions. The youngest Racer wasn't deaf – he had heard the harsh words his father had raved toward Rex – the garage acted like an echo system, and the kitchen was the next room over. He remembered words like "stupid", "reckless", and "hurt" – he remembered the door slamming shut so viciously that the picture of his grandparents had crashed to the floor. He remembered Rex's face being as red as the blood that had earlier covered it – remembered how he had stormed pass, jaw clenched, and not even a glance toward him. He remembered, and it made him angry.

"Stupid," the eight-year-old reiterated firmly, and with a grunt of effort, managed to push his comforter from its locked position around his body. The bed gave a creak of protest as he stepped from it, and it rang like a warning he was quite content not to hear. Rex had to be out of the bath by now -- he could sneak some of Mom's pudding from the fridge and take to his room -- and maybe even some of the left over macaroni; his older brother hadn't gotten to eat anything, either. He wouldn't be able to warm it up, though ...

He pushed his door open carefully, aware of the squeak it was obviously trained to give to alert his parents when he was leaving his room. He coaxed the wood into place just enough for his body to squeeze through and out into the darkened hallway, not even bothering to close it as his now cold feet sunk into the soft berber carpet. The kitchen was just across the hall and down a few feet -- if he were quiet, not even Pops would hear the sound of the silverware clinking as he took it from the drawer ...

"You're not listening to me!"

The shriek of his mother had Speed stopped-dead in his tracks, blue eyes wide with a terrible fright. He had never heard that tone in her voice before -- one of absolute anger and sadness. A closer look revealed a line of light beneath the door of his parents' room, and against instinct, Speed moved closer to the oak door, further from his destination, and he flinched as his father's booming voice suddenly erupted.

"_I'm_ not listening to _you_? Ayo, I heard everything you _said_. _You're_ not listening to _me!_"

"That's because _you're _being unreasonable! It was an accident, Pops! A horrible crash, certainly, but an _accident_. Rex and Speed are both here, safe and sound --." She drew off, and the air around Speed quickly grew hot. Eyes still wide with their fear, everything in Speed screamed to run, to return to the safety of his room, or better yet, Rex's room. But before his feet could even move an inch, Pops roared words that had his feet melted to the floor, haunting his thoughts with macabre realization.

"_They could have died!"_

Silence ensued.

Speed stared at the door of his parents' room as though it were a gun aimed at his head by a man who claimed he would shoot him if he blinked. The sound of his own blood roared in his ears accompanied by a low-pitch whistling sound -- his chest ached unknowingly from the rapid breaths that were harshly attacking his ribcage.

_What?_

_'But ... but Rex didn't say anything about __**dying**__,_' Speed's mind protested, though it sounded weak, even to him. 'He _... he __**laughed**__ about it, even. __**Rex didn't say we could have died!'**_

"Rex would have told me," he whispered brokenly.

"Don't look at me like that, Ayo," he heard his father say heavily. "It's the truth and you know it. Did you see the dent in Rex's head beneath that cut? We're lucky the car wasn't going fast enough to fall just below the KwickSave, because there's little doubt he would have gotten brain damaged." A flinch. "Letting Speed drive was a foolish thing to do. He isn't built for that kind of driving."

"He's only eight-years-old, Pops." His mother again, voice softer now, trying to be soothing. "Give it time. He will have learned from this, you know -- drivers always do. When he's older and racing --."

"That won't happen." Pop's voice was steadfast, determined. Speed could practically. "He's not driving again, not after this. His mistake could have had us burying two sons tonight."

It were as though the entire house had turned to ice.

Speed stared at the door, unblinking, his rapid gulps for air suddenly dropping down to shallow breaths. His entire body felt as though it was freezing -- he was vaguely aware that his arms were shaking like unbalanced wheels on a car.

_'His mistake could have had us burying two sons tonight.'_

_'Rex,_' he called silently, pleading.

_'Could have died.'_

A tears raced down his frozen cheek.

_'His mistake could have had us burying two sons tonight.'_

"No," he muttered fiercely, pulling away from the door viciously as though it burned him, stumbling back so directionless that he slammed lightly into the wall behind him. He was aware that his parents were still speaking, of the sound of a door opening and closing somewhere on the opposite side of the house, but he couldn't focus. Where his body shivered, his eyes burned.

He crumbled then and there, somewhere and nowhere between his parents and Rex. His throat ached, his lungs screamed in protest, and all he could do was wrap his arms around his legs and bury his sobbing face into his knees.

_'I almost killed him,'_ he cried silently. _'I almost killed him!' _ His tears fell harder. 'Oh_, geez. I'm sorry, Rex. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Rex. Please forgive me. I don't want you to die. Please, please, please, please, __**please**__.'_

His tears were running into his mouth -- their salty bitterness seemed as though it belonged, but it only made his heart pain all the more.

"I'm sorry," his whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Another door opening, this time closer. The eight-year-old's head jerked up, and he pulled himself in closer to the wall as he made out Rex's burly form against the dim light of the bathroom. He watched, breath held, as his older brother slowly ambled toward his room, and noticed now that his walk was that of pain, and not cool attitude.

... Pops was right ...

But as the door to his brother's room closed, everything instantly became unbearable. His tears suddenly ceased, his body aching from restrained sobs. The roar of his blood had faded, and he could now hear the continued mumbling from his parents' room.

"Wrong, stupid ..."

"Pancakes..."

He wanted Rex. Even if he had almost gotten him killed, even if ... even ...

He needed his brother.

Slowly, sans the caution of before, he pushed himself up from the floor with the brace of the wall, stumbling slightly as his tingling feet struggled to find their footing. He kept his hand firmly upon the wall, feeling his way toward the door that had so viciously cut them off.

_'I don't want you to die, Rex,'_ he thought mournfully, and stopped as his hand found the familiar wood. What was he going to say?

On reflex, he knocked a second later, cringing at the surprising sound.

"I don't want to talk right now," he heard his brother croak out, and he flinched at the dry tone of the words, the tears beginning to build up again. "It's two in the morning, can't we continue the lecture after breakfast?"

_'Please.'_ He knocked again, softer this time, more timid. _'Please don't say no.'_ He gently, hesitantly, pushed the door open.

"R-Rex?" His breath hitched in his throat. A momentary pause.

"Speedy?"

And he couldn't answer. He wanted to -- he wanted to call out, to beg a hug, to demand that his brother tell him that everything Pop's had said was a lie. But all he could do was stand there, waiting, hoping, and hating. His eyes blinked rapidly as the light of Rex's room flicked on.

Only to see Rex standing before him when he finally stopped, looking just as horrified as he had earlier that day on the track.

"Speedy?" The sound of his name from Rex's lips was Heaven. "What's wrong? What happened?" He saw his brother's hand reach out for his shoulder, but for the first time he could remember, he jerked away, fearing the contact. He looked down, and without knowing why, sauntered into the room. "Speed?" Rex called softly.

"I'm sorry." And he hated how pathetic he sounded. He heard the door shut behind him.

"Sorry?" Rex inquired lightly. "Sorry for what, bud? We've already talked about this. It was an accident, and the Mach 4 will be back up to par in no time--."

"I'm sorry I almost got us killed." He cut off in a whisper, and cringed back in expectation of the explosion.

"W-_what_?"

_'Here it comes,'_ he told himself, forlorn. '_He's_ _going to tell you to get out, that he never wants to see you again. That Pops was right and that he hates you. Maybe ... maybe I can stay with Sparky in the garage. That way I'd still be close.'_

But as the silence continued, he risked a glance at his brother, annoyed with his own shaking that made Rex looks like he was jumping. He tensed as the older boy moved closer, flinching again as Rex reached out, but unable to pull away from the fingers that had grasped his chin.

"Speedy," he called out comfortingly, and all the eight-year-old wanted to do was curl up in his arms. "What are you talking about? We didn't almost die."

The onslaught of fresh tears was almost annoying.

"Yes we did!" Speed cried out, jerking away from the grip and stumbling back against the window. Why couldn't Rex see what their father had? 'Will you tell me he's wrong, Rex?' "Pops and Mom were arguing about it in 'eir room while you were in the tub! 'ey said I could have gotten us killed – I heard 'em! Pops …" His body shuddered painfully, his voice lowering. "Pops said my mistake could have had 'em burying two sons tonight."

His brother hissed, and Speed's hope began to break.

_'What can I do, Rex?'_ He pleaded mentally. _'What can I do to make sure you won't die?'_

"I don't want you to die, Rex," he voiced softly. Maybe ... ""I won't ever drive again, if you won't die. Will 'at work, Rex? I won't even go to the track anymore, if 'at'll help. I'll—."

"Shut up, Speedy," his brother snapped, and the hope shattered. Speed's mouth instantly snapped shut, tears once again running freely down his face as he screwed his eyes shut. 'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.'

And then he felt it -- strong arms wrapping themselves tightly around his body, holding him so tightly he felt as though he could burst. Held in a hug -- Rex's hug -- it all fell to pieces -- his tears soaked through his brother's thin shirt as a gentle, caring hand raced soothingly up and down his back. "Shhh," his brother soothed. "Shhh, Speedy. It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here, buddy. I'm right here. We're both okay. Shhhhhh."

_'Please don't hate me, Rex.'_

He felt himself being lifted from the cool ground sometime later, but still tucked beneath Rex's chin, he didn't care. His sobbing had died down to a steady stream of tears and the occasional sniffle, and when they landed gently on the bed, he kept himself there, burrowing closer, snuggling against his brother's warmth.

"Pops was wrong, Speed," his brother murmured a little while later, and Speed froze in midst of a shiver. What? That accident wouldn't have killed us. I promise you that. And you know why, don't you?" Still stunned that Rex had denounced Pops' words, Speed could only stare at him and shake his head. "It's because of those red socks that you're always wearing. Those are the only reasons were survived."

"What?" Speed pulled away slightly, his voice hoarse as he stared at his brother in disbelief. "My socks? But you said you didn't _like_ my red socks, Rex." His red socks had been a constant annoyance to his brother and, in the end, to Speed, as Rex seemed to take every chance he could get to poke fun at them. But the soft, long woven-wool had quickly become a comfort to Speed, a sign of something different. Something like him. And where Rex was irked by their presence, Speed adored them. He stared up at his brother, beseeching an explanation.

"I didn't," his brother admitted in rush, before smirking. "But that was before they saved us. Can you imagine the headlines? 'Racer Brothers Saved in Serious Car Accident by Magical Red Socks. More on page eight.'"

And Speed couldn't help it -- it was so ridiculous, his dry throat had to allow the giggle to erupt, and he grinned at his brother.

"Really?" He demanded, and the hope that had broken to pieces earlier had seemed to be magically glued back together as Rex lowered leaned down until their foreheads rested against each other. _'Really, Rex?'_

"I wouldn't lie to you, little brother," he assured, and Speed could only stare at him in wonder as he pulled back. "Now, let's get some sleep, huh? I don't know about you, but I really want some of Mom's breakfast in the morning. I'm not going to sleep through _that_." He twisted around a little, apparently trying to dig up the covers to slip underneath, and with a practiced pounce, Speed managed to slide under first, holding back his triumphant grin.

_'Pancakes ...'_

Oh.

"She's making pancakes," he replied softly, before burying his head in the pillow. "I heard 'at, too." Unbidden, a frown dragged up from the memory as Rex flipped off the light before settling in beside him.

"Pancakes? Awesome. Definitely going to sleep now." And Speed snuggled up to the warmth of his brother, laying his head on his chest, content as Rex's arm came around to hold him in place. This was ... this was it. This was right. His mind was beginning to grow foggy with sleep.

"Love you, Rex," he muttered, burrowing deeper as Rex pulled him closer.

"Love you too, Speedy," his brother whispered.

_'Don't worry, Rex,'_ Speed thought as sleep came up to grab him. _'I'm going to protect you. You won't die, Rex. I'm not going to let you die.'_

_'I promise'._

**.T.**

When Mom had found them that morning, Speed was scared she was going to yell or tell Pops before she had smiled at them both and told them breakfast was ready.

He had watched with careful eyes as she pulled Rex aside and hugged him so tightly he had seen his brother wince. He didn't know what words had passed between them, but had concluded his watch with satisfaction when he saw her place a gentle kiss the still tender cut on Rex's forehead, and the smile that had stayed on his face until Pops had joined them at the table.

In all of his eight years, Speed had never felt a more awkward moment in his life.

"I need to talk to you."

Scratch that. There it was, now.

He tensed and stared up at his brother in horror. 'What are you doing, what are you doing?!' his mind was screaming, but he couldn't bring his mouth the form the words. _'Rex.'_

"So talk," Pops growled, and Speed cringed, slitting upon an eye to sneak a look at his brother, only to feel his jaw drop. Rex was staring at Pops wearing the identical expression on his face as was on their father's .

"In private." That was a near-perfect imitation to, and Speed was so awed that he found himself following as Rex stood up until his brother spoke. "Stay, Speedy."

Oh. Stay. Was he moving?

_'Right._' He frowned slightly as Pops followed Rex a moment later, looking angrier than he had ever seen, and then snuck a glance toward his mom. "'at's not good," he stated, and she sighed.

"Don't worry about it, Baby," she advised with a shake of her head. "Lord knows how long it will take, but they'll sort it out. You know your father."

"And I know Rex," Speed affirmed with a nod, snatching another bite of his pancake with an exaggerated stab of his fork. His worried gaze toward the garage door was pulled away by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

"Who on Earth?" His mother wondered allowed, abandoning her dishes in her quest for the door.

"Mrs. Racer, hello!" A cheery voice cut through the muffled yelling that had now inundated the garage, and Speed perked up at the familiarity of it. "Sorry to bother you so early, but I told Racer -- er, your son -- that I would bring the car by when it could be moved ...?"

"Oh, yes! Mr. Silvertine, was it? Please, come in. I'll go get Pops and Rex." Speed was already moving when his mother and the tall dark driver entered the kitchen.

"Sam!" He exclaimed, wide-eyed. "You brought 'he Mach 4? Is it in pieces? Are we in trouble wi' 'he officials? Is 'he Mach going to work again? Did I ruin it? Can it race on Saturday? How'd you get it here? Is REX in trouble?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid, slow down!" Another bout of laughter -- Speed was beginning to like this driver and his clashing persona.

"Would you like some pancakes, Mr. Silvertine?" As usual, Mom gave no room for protest, and the next minute the other racer was sitting beside him with a plate of his own. And Speed felt no qualms about staring unblinking at the man whilst his mother maneuvered carefully toward the garage, which had now quieted.

"Got yourself quite a knock on the head, didn't you, kiddo?" Sam asked, waving a syrup-covered fork at the still-in-place bandage. Speed smiled shyly, and Sam laughed again. "And your two front teeth, too!" Mom slipped out the door.

"'hey'll grow back." Speed shrugged, and the older man nodded, sensing the change in tone.

"Scared your brother to death yesterday, kid," Sam said after a few seconds, and Speed looked down, shivering slightly. 'Don't I know it?'. "He wouldn't let go of you for nothing, couldn't even get him to lie down." Another pause. "You're damn lucky, kid. He loves you something fierce."

"I know," he muttered back, and looked away again at the man's quizzical frown. But before another word on the subject could be spoken, his mother walked back in, informing them that Rex and Pops would be in in just a minute, thus ending the conversation thoroughly. Speed seized the moment.

"What kind of car do you race, Sam?"

When Rex finally came through the door, Speed noticed that he looked a little weary, and more than a little tired. But a smile fluttered onto his face, their eyes locking, and Speed jumped up in mid conversation with the other driver, beaming as Rex pulled him into a one-armed hug.

_'Damn lucky_.'

_**Finished**_

_I don't know. I think it came off a little … melodramatic, a bit. I stand by the fact that I am just not attuned with children at _all.

_Hope it wasn't too bad, though. I really liked the part Speed saw between Rex and Mom. :3_

_Um, yes. (ahem) Notes. Gave Mom the name Ayo, in honor of her 'true' Japanese heritage. … That and I really got tired of referring to her as Mom. I … think that's it, really. Oh, and there's another sequel to both Turnover and Flipped, centered literally just pre-movie._

_This puts my SR Fic count at: 2/13 completed. Hm. The next one to posted will be 'It's Not There', an X/Speed brotherish fic. I'll be posting it right after I post this. Please check it out – it may be better! _

_Anyway, ha. Please click the review button and tell me what you thought, loved it or hated it, whatever. I'd appreciate it!_

_Always, _

_Me_


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